You Already Know My Name
by Cheeky The Monkey
Summary: A story about how The Doctor met his favourite country. And how he watched England fall. The Doctor would always somehow end up alone. Please review!
1. A Familiar Stranger

**Hello! Trying something new today, so please be patient with me! I've tried to keep the chapters short and sweet. Reviews are very greatly appreciated!  
**

 **DOCTOR WHO AND HETALIA BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS, NOT ME**

 _ **4th Doctor**_

The Doctor had thought nothing of the fist hint.

He had been wearing his fourth face. He whistled a tune as he strolled into the U.N.I.T. base. He'd received a message that the Brigadier wanted to speak with him, and he could never turn down a chat with the Brigadier. Well, as long as that chat didn't involve him doing any serious work. Knowing he was early for once, The Doctor sat himself down on a chair, and popped a jelly-baby into his mouth.

He didn't have to wait long until Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart briskly walked into the waiting room. "Ah, Brigadier!" He said with a smile on his face.

"Doctor." The Brigadier promptly replied outstretching his hand which The Doctor shook gladly. "I see you received my message."

"Yes, now what is this all about?" Asked The Doctor. "Nothing too serious, I hope."

"Oh no, no. In fact I simply wanted to pass on a message myself." Said Brigadier.

"A message? What kind of message? From Earth? Did they leave a name?" Asked The Doctor, intrigued. He usually didn't stay in one place long enough for anyone to leave a message for him. Except his companions. His mind flickered to dear Sarah; he was yet to tell her that he had returned. He probably never will at this point. He frowned, lost in his thoughts.

"Human, I assure you." Answered the Brigadier, completely oblivious to The Doctor's nostalgic expression. "A young man came in here a few weeks ago, asking to leave a message for The Doctor. He didn't seem interested in speaking to you in person. We asked him for his name but he said that you'd already know."

"Interesting… what was his message?"

"Now that is the strangest part of all. He told me to _thank_ you and for you to "continue keeping your adventures a secret", whatever that means."

"A few weeks ago?" The Doctor said, thinking back to what he had done a few weeks ago. Ah, yes! He had prevented an alien disease from spreading throughout the country. He had almost revealed his identity in doing so, but had managed to think of an alternate way of explaining to the people that he knew what to do.

"Yes..." Said Brigadier, obviously awaiting an explanation from The Doctor about what the message meant.

"Well in that case, if that's all you had to say, good day to you, Brigadier" And with that The Doctor left a confused Brigadier with his thoughts and began walking back to the TARDIS, wondering who on earth could have left him that message.

* * *

The second hint left The Doctor slightly suspicious.

It was 1876 and he was leaving Buckingham Palace after discussing Queen Victoria's new title as Empress of India when he saw the letter pinned to the front of the TARDIS. It was in a plain envelope addressed to "The Doctor", so naturally The Doctor picked it up. He decided on reading it once he was back inside the TARDIS as letters addressed to him usually weren't very friendly.

Once he was safely inside, he cautiously removed the letter from the envelope (half expecting something to jump out) and unfolded it. It was written in English in small, neat handwriting.

It read:

 _Dear Doctor_

I would like to formally thank you for the countless times you've saved my life. I cannot think of enough words to express my gratitude. What you do for the people and I is unparalleled and I can only hope you will continue to do so. Forgive me for criticizing you, but could you please take slightly more care in your work. There's been many occurrences where I have had to personally deal with the aftermath of your mishaps. I can only hope your next face will have more sense than this one. Stay safe, Doctor.

I am forever in your debt.

(There was a squiggle of a signature which The Doctor couldn't decipher)

(P.S. You already know my name, therefore I won't go to the trouble of repeating it.)

The Doctor took off his hat and scratched his head. Who could have sent this letter? He had only been talking with the Queen for a few minutes, and the T.A.R.D.I.S. was in palace grounds so it had to be someone with enough authority to walk around unnoticed. But who?

After re-reading the letter and gaining no answers, he carefully slid the it back inside the envelope.

The Doctor had felt a sense of déjà vu when reading the letter. He thought back to the mysterious message the Brigadier had given him a few months ago, which had also been about thanking him, and was also from someone who claimed that The Doctor already knew their name. Of course, the man must be quite young to have lived over 100 years, but it was not unheard of. But wait, didn't the Brigadier say that the message had been left by a _young_ man? Then perhaps it was a relative, or these were different people who shared a title?

In any case, this was a mystery that kept on nagging The Doctor, who refused to let it go. He was going to find this man. At some point. Probably later. The Doctor had bigger things on his mind, so he let these connected messages settle themselves a place on his mental to-do list.

* * *

The third time was enough for The Doctor to realise that whoever he was dealing with was certainly not normal.

It was 1939, and many people were preparing to go to war. This message was simple, a piece of paper pinned to the T.A.R.D.I.S. saying:

" _Take care of any unwanted visitors whilst I'm at war. I'm leaving the country and people in your hands."_

Upon reading the note and seeing the signature The Doctor had immediately made the connection between the messages. It was clear that he was a big part of this mysterious man's life. The Doctor could now whittle down possible suspects. It would have to be someone with a large amount of authority, if they helped rule the country. But wouldn't they have to be at least 63 by now? That was no age to go to war in, especially if you have a high status. He decided to check the soldier files, to see if anyone was around that age.

* * *

The Doctor sighed. He had found nothing in his search. Whilst there were a few older men fighting in the war none had a high status, which ruled them out. So unless this man was alien or simply immortal and very patriotic then there's no way that-

"Hold on a second…"


	2. Solving The Riddle

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 ** _4th Doctor_**

"The information is classified."

Occam's razor. The simplest solution is usually the correct one. The Doctor had seen enough to know not to live by that mentality. Things were always unnecessarily complicated if they involved him, and this case was no less.

After putting all of the facts together and discussing it with the Brigadier, The Doctor had not made much progress. All they knew was that two of the messages were from the same person, as they shared that scruffy signature. On a whim The Doctor had tried to find the man behind the signature only to find that information classified. Why would a name need to be classified?

Without another word he sat down on a chair, thinking things over once again. There had to be something obvious he was missing, but what?

After double checking the files, the Brigadier sighed. The Doctor had told him about the letter and the note, and he also came to the conclusion that they were from the same person. But from what he had seen, the man who told him to pass on a message had been quite young. If only the cameras hadn't mysteriously stopped working! He mentally kicked himself for not paying more attention to the man's appearance.

"That's it!" The Doctor exclaimed suddenly, startling the Brigadier who dropped the files in surprise.

"What's it?" He asked.

"Tell me Brigadier, did this man have a foreign accent?" The Doctor replied, his eyes twinkling.

"No, I don't believe so. From what I can remember he had a crisp English accent. Though I cannot seem to be able to pinpoint an exact location. But I assume that's because I've just forgotten it by this poi-"

"Don't you see, Brigadier?" Interrupted The Doctor, with a sudden spurt of energy. "A man who was close enough to Queen Victoria to be able to waltz around the palace in secret, someone who has a large sense of patriotism towards his country, someone who went to war as soon as Britain became involved, and someone who appeared to be young and spoke with a generic English accent?"

"Yes, that about sums it up. But what of it?" Brigadier asked, having no clue where The Doctor was going with this.

"What if this man was England himself?" Said The Doctor, his eyes shining even more.

The Brigadier was left speechless, letting this information sink in. He had worked in U.N.I.T. long enough to know to always expect the unexpected, but this seemed impossible. Something that had been under their noses for so long? But then again, it would explain why the information was classified. "It would make sense…" He muttered.

"Exactly! And there's only one way to find out if we're right!"

"Doctor, surely you're not suggesting you meet with him. If he is, indeed, our country then who knows what you could be dealing with."

"But he said himself that I saved his life many times, I'm sure he's dying to meet me!" The Doctor grinned, knowing he had the Brigadier trapped.

There was an awkward silence in which the Brigadier sighed and rubbed his temples.  
Eventually, he reluctantly gave in. "Alright. But don't blame me when you find yourself in trouble."

"I wouldn't dream of it!" Laughed The Doctor. Now all he had to do was think of a message to leave…

* * *

England frowned as he let out a sigh of relief. What was The Doctor thinking? Going and almost exposing himself without reason just after he had warned him not to was completely out of order.

Letting his frustration cool down, he decided to go back to U.N.I.T. and leave a slightly less polite message for The Doctor.

He let himself into the base and walked up to a lady at the desk. "Good afternoon. May I leave a quick message for The Doctor?" He asked politely, trying not to let his anger show. "He already knows my name." He added, hoping to avoid questions.

"Oh, he's left a letter for you." The lady replied, hardly looking up from the computer.

All anger that was inside England was replaced with confusion. There's no way The Doctor would have left a letter for him! Unless… he blinked a few times before asking the receptionist if she was sure. After only getting a nod in reply, he asked to see the letter.

The receptionist digged through the papers on her desk before handing over the letter. She had been ordered to keep track of the appearance of the recipient. She discreetly began typing notes.

 _Appears to be in early 20s_

 _Around 5'9", skinny_

 _Hair colour: Blonde_

 _Thick, dark eyebrows_

 _Eye colour:_

She had only intended to look for a second. Her eyes flickered up to check this man's eye colour, when she had become lost. His forest green eyes seemed to pull her in. They seemed to hold so many secrets, so much pain, so much wisdom. She almost jumped out of her skin when he returned the gaze.

England cleared his throat, knowing full well that people could become entranced by their respective county's eyes. The receptionist seemed to snap back into reality, and she quickly averted her gaze in embarrassment. Neither said a word as he left, tucking the letter into his pocket.

The Doctor had not written a great deal. Simply:

 _I know your name. Call me._

There had also been a slip of paper enclosed in the envelope, which held a phone number. England instantly regretted ever contacting The Doctor, he really didn't want to deal with this right now. But it wouldn't hurt to try calling him, would it? They could exchange answers. It might actually work out for the best, as England had always secretly hoped to meet The Doctor someday. Well, as long as the other nations didn't find out…

With his mind made up, he began to make his way to his nearest house. He had a very important phone call to make.


	3. The Phone Call

**This chapter is much shorter, so I apologise beforehand. I would've left it out but I needed to move the plot along so... yeah. And just letting you know, I already have the whole thing written out, but I'm still open to suggestions!**

 **Please review!**

 _Rrrrrrrrring. Rrrrrrrrring._

The Doctor sprinted towards the telephone in the T.A.R.D.I.S., almost tripping over in the process. "Hello?"

" _Is this The Doctor speaking?"_

The Doctor held his breath, thinking of a way to word his question. "Yes, do I know your name?"

" _I believe you do."_

He grinned, finally he was talking with this man! "Splendid! I am correct in assuming that you are England?"

The Doctor heard something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle from the other end, until… " _How long have you known?"_

"Not that long, actually. You were rather cryptic."

" _I try."_

There was an awkward silence, neither man seeming to be able to know what to say. The Doctor had so many questions, but didn't know whether it would be rude or not to ask.

Luckily, he didn't need to dwell on that for long, as England broke the silence." _I know what you're like, so you'd better start asking now."_

Now all The Doctor had to do was choose a question to start with. "Is there someone to represent every country?" He asked.

" _Yes, but we are the country. We don't represent, we just are."_ Came the reply.

Interesting, thought The Doctor. "So if something happens to the country…"

" _We get affected. Sometimes the other way around, too."_

"Who knows about you?"

" _Only those that need to know. The Royal Family, the Prime Minister, odd officials here and there…"_

The conversation was going well, so The Doctor decided to push his luck with a more personal question. "How old are you?" He asked bluntly, interrupting England.

" _Pardon?"_ Said a slightly surprised England.

"How old are you?" The Doctor repeated.

" _How old are you?"_ England asked defensively, but The Doctor wasn't going to give up without a straight answer.

"I'm currently in my 800s. Now how old are you?"

" _Around double that. I don't know exactly."_

"Interesting." The Doctor was satisfied with that answer. This was followed by yet another awkward silence. Which once again was broken by England.

" _Listen, now I have the chance to do this directly. Thank you. For saving me, the people, the world. I wasn't lying when I told you that I owe you my life."_

The Doctor smiled, he had been expecting this sooner or later. "Think nothing of it. Your people make the best companions, so I suppose I should be thanking you." He said, his various friends coming to mind. But also to his most recent friend who...

" _Sarah-Jane thinks you're dead."_

Of course he would know about Sarah. "...It's for the best." He eventually responded.

It then brought up the question of how much did England know about him? Probably everything that happened on Earth.

" _Forgive me for cutting this short, but I have a meeting to attend. Until next time, Doctor, feel free to leave a message with U.N.I.T. if you ever want to talk."_

"I shall remember that. Goodbye, England."

With that, the line went dead. The Doctor had a feeling he had just made a friend for life.

* * *

 _Rrrrrrrrring. Rrrrrrrrring._

England made his way to the telephone, taking off his apron as he did so. It was probably The Doctor calling. They had talked many times since their first phone call, and they had become very close friends. They would often share stories of their different adventures, and he would often scold The Doctor if his adventures became too dangerous.

Sure enough, as soon as he picked up, The Doctor's loud voice came through.  
" _Can we meet in person? I've been thinking about it and I want to meet you before I regenerate."_

England couldn't help but smile. He knew that it was only a matter of time before The Doctor asked to meet in person, and he had prepared for it. Actually, he'd prepared for it decades ago.

"Actually Doctor, I isolated myself for a year just so if you ever wanted to talk in the future, then we would have time."

" _...You really thought ahead didn't you. I mean, I'd already found your address but I didn't know what time you'd be free."_ The Doctor said. England felt happy knowing he was one step in front of him for once.

"1902. I hope that answers your question." He said.

England heard The Doctor clear his throat. " _Yes, I shall see you then."_

Once The Doctor had hung up, England sat himself down on his favourite armchair. It was only a matter of time before new memories would come to light, of his first meeting with The Doctor. He could only hope they would be good memories.


	4. The Meeting

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The Doctor found himself standing outside a mansion in the middle of a forest on the outskirts of Manchester. It looked old, with vines clinging on to the large stone walls. He felt adrenaline flood his veins; he was finally going to meet England.

England had always been his favourite country. It was something about the place that The Doctor couldn't keep himself from coming back to. Of course, Scotland came up as a close second. He knocked a little tune on the wooden door.

Almost instantly a familiar voice called out from inside "Come in! The door's unlocked. I'm in the living room!" _England's voice._

Cautiously The Doctor opened the door, which was indeed unlocked. He was greeted by antique-looking furniture scattered throughout a hallway which was lined with portraits, with a few black and white photographs here and there. The Doctor could sense the many memories contained within each one.

At the end of the hallway, was a partially open door with light coming through. Assuming this was the one England was in, he took a deep breath and entered. Immediately he felt whatever he had been planning on saying slip through his mind, and he took off his hat and simply stared open-mouthed at the man before him.

England was shorter than himself but only by a few inches. He had a slender build ( _too slender_ thought The Doctor) and pale skin. He had a mop of short, spiky, blonde hair which complemented his eyes. His bright, forest green eyes, which made The Doctor's hearts feel heavy. The only time he'd seen eyes like that was when he looked in a mirror. Eyes beyond age. Eyes that bore unbearable knowledge. Eyes that one could easily find themselves lost in, if they stared for too long.

The Doctor realised he was still staring. England only seemed to smile. The Doctor noticed the slight quiver in his lips as he did so, and he felt like as much as this smile was genuine, it wasn't a natural gesture. That made him feel sad for the boy.

He caught himself in his thoughts. _Boy._ While the person in front of him was by no means a boy, he still seemed so young. Only just an adult.

He was wearing a white shirt with a tweed waistcoat. Casual-wear, in Victorian times.

Looking closer at England's face The Doctor noticed that just under his eyes was a light dusting of barely noticeable freckles, and there seemed to be light markings all over his skin. His stomach lurched when he realised that they weren't markings at all. They were scars.

"You look so… young." Was what he finally managed to utter, immediately kicking himself for starting with such a comment.

England was unfazed and simply gestured for The Doctor to sit down in a nearby armchair. "So do you." Was his gentle reply.

Once England himself had also sat down, The Doctor felt himself staring yet again as he clasped one of England's hands and began to draw circles around his palm. "You're so... beautiful. As a personification, I mean. To be honest I was half expecting Gandalf. But you! Your light hair, the sand surrounding the edge of the island. Your hard, cold hands, your experience in work and battle. Your eyes, the green of the land, the grass and woodland. Your pale skin, the lack of sunny days. Everything makes sense, and creates something so beautiful."

England withdrew his hand and blushed slightly at The Doctor's comments. "Thank you, but I don't believe that means anything. I mean, our appearances really don't mean much, but it does makes sense the way you put it." He sighed. He wasn't used to The Doctor staring at him. "Also, who's Gandalf?" he added.

The Doctor chuckled, before immediately slapping a hand over his own mouth. "Forget I said anything, it's not been written yet."

"If you insist."

There was an odd time where the friends just stared at each other, neither daring to start conversation.

"You didn't have a plan for once we met, did you?"  
"No."

"Fair enough.

"Oh my, where on Earth are my manners? Happy new year, Doctor!" Said England.

"I still can't believe you set aside an entire year just for meeting with me." The Doctor replied.

"Like I said Doctor, I owe you my life. But unfortunately I have a rather busy life so I can only spare a year. You'd better be happy, I've left the idiots I call brothers to look after the country while I'm away."

"Brothers?" Asked The Doctor in surprise. "I didn't think you could have family. Unless… tell me England, does Scotland happen to be one of your brothers?"

"...Yes." England admitted. The Doctor realised it was a sore spot, as his friend seemed to shuffle uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to change the subject but England beat him to it.

"How did you figure me out, in the future?" He asked.

"Oh, you left little thank you notes every now and again." Answered The Doctor.

England sighed. "I had hoped that would only be a one-time thing. It seems my plans to be cryptic failed miserably."

"If you don't mind me asking, I would love to know more about you. Your existence intrigues me."

"Oh Doctor, where do I begin?"

And for once The Doctor kept his mouth shut as he listened to the stories of his old friend.

* * *

The Doctor often visited England in 1902. They would have a cup of tea and chat things over, each learning more about the other. Whenever he found himself alone, visiting England was always first on The Doctor's to-do list. Regeneration after regeneration, England was always indifferent about The Doctor's appearance. But he was in no place to judge, after all he was stuck in the same year whilst The Doctor had gone through 30.

Every now and again, after learning a particularly painful part of England's past, The Doctor would go and yell at whichever human had done wrong to his friend. He never dared to even attempt to confront a country, though. He knew his limits to meddling with time.

Present England uncovered pleasant new memories from whenever The Doctor and his past self met, and it would always cheer him up. The Doctor had grown to be his closest non-magical friend, and that feeling seemed to be mutual. The Doctor loved having a friend that didn't grow old, and would always be there for England, albeit at the same time in the same setting.

Being best friends with his favourite country was certainly a first for The Doctor, but if anything it made him more determined to protect it at all costs. Especially at Christmas time. He had witnessed some times where the country was affected in 1902 and that would have a toll on England right in front of his eyes. It made The Doctor feel sorry for him, having that multiple millenia long responsibility to one planet, and to have to watch his people be born and die in a seemingly endless cycle.

But sometimes The Doctor wanted to take on that responsibility for the sake of his own fallen people.


	5. The Bomb

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 ** _10th Doctor_**

 _"It has been confirmed that the United Kingdom has been fully evacuated for reasons the Government refuse to provide. Each working individual shall receive a portion of the Government's money, as it has been predicted that the land may take a century to fully recover, even then it will be a group of broken islands, depending on how much land is destroyed. In regards to the bomb itself, it has been theorized that it is not of this world, but this is yet to be confirmed. All we know is that its target is London, and that England will be completely destroyed. The west of Wales and south of Scotland will also be badly affected. Areas of France and Belgium may be hit by tsunamis, therefore precautions have been made."_

" _Breaking news! The bomb is closer than we thought; only an hour from impact. Whilst all British citizens have found refuge in nearby countries or with relatives, now is the time to start praying that the damage won't be too severe. Now John, how do you think this will affect the world ma-"_

The Doctor switched off his radio and the TARDIS began to dematerialize without him doing anything. She wanted to find England as much as he did.

He hated himself. He thought he had managed to prevent the bomb from knocking the moon out of orbit. And he had. But instead it had irreversibly been set to London. At least there was enough time to evacuate the people, but The Doctor wasn't worried too much about them. No, he was worried that he was about to be the cause of his best friend's death.

He had never seen England outside of 1902, so he didn't really know what to expect as he stepped out onto the grass, which was growing on a lush green hill around a 45 minute drive from London itself.

He spotted a figure lying on the grass nearby. He walked over to see a surprisingly calm England looking up at the rare blue sky dotted with clouds. He didn't seem to acknowledge The Doctor's presence. The Doctor was about to clear his throat when England said "You've changed again."

The Doctor sat himself next to his friend. "You haven't." Was his reply.

Silence. Even the birds had the sense to leave.

"I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, Doctor." England said in a monotonous voice.

"I'm the one that's sorry. This is all my fault, I could've… I could've done something differently! If only I'd thought about-"

"The sky is so beautiful."

"Erm, yyyyyes I guess it is." The Doctor's voice had gone hysterically high. He composed himself before commenting "You seem unnaturally calm about all this."

"It had to be someone, and I'd rather it be me than them."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I thought you hated most of the other nations?"

"They hate me. I've wanted death for a while."

"Oh."

The silence was interrupted by the soft crunch of boots on grass. The Doctor looked up to see a man with flame-red hair coming up the hill. The man nodded at The Doctor. "Doctor." he said in an accent that The Doctor immediately recognised.

Despite the situation, The Doctor couldn't help the small grin that crept onto his face. "Scotland." He stated in reply. Whilst The Doctor loved and often visited Scotland as a place, this was the first time he met the man in person.

"Are the others here?" Asked The Doctor, knowing if one brother was here the others probably wouldn't be far behind.

"Aye, they're in the cottage over there. We've already said our… goodbyes."

Scotland sighed, looking at his little brother, who still refused to look at anything except the sky. He then once again turned to The Doctor.

"Is there any way we can watch?" He asked him, his voice barely a whisper.

The Doctor bit his lip. He had in fact been planning on using a hologram to watch, but he knew it would be better if it was England's brothers instead of him. But perhaps if the TARDIS was on safe ground…

"Yes, but the TARDIS will have to be in mainland Europe. I'm afraid your ground would be too unstable." He answered.

Scotland nodded. "Well then, now's a good a time as any." He said, walking off to retrieve his brothers from the cottage."

When the two were alone once more, The Doctor began to feel nauseous. It was time for goodbye. He hated goodbyes. "England I-"

"Thank you, Doctor."

Not another word was said between them.

* * *

The hologram was all set up, and the British brothers were already using it. None of them were saying a word, all simply staring at one spot, presumably England. The Doctor was about to join them when there was a knock on the TARDIS door. Confused, he opened it.

There was a man with long, wavy blonde hair waiting for him. He was wearing black and looked very solemn. He glared at The Doctor.

"What do think you are doing?!" He exclaimed, clearly very annoyed. "Zis is a dark day for Angleterre and you are mocking ze country with zis building on French soil? 'ow dare you!" Ah yes, he probably should have thought about making sure a police box stayed hidden in France.

The Doctor was about to slam the door shut, this wasn't the time to be dealing with this, when he looked into the man's eyes. That now familiar look of deceiving age. "France…" He muttered under his breath.

France clearly must have heard him because he immediately asked "Who are you?" He pushed past The Doctor to find England's older brothers staring at nothing in particular.

"I'm his friend." Was The Doctor's reply. England didn't seem to like France, at all, but The Doctor knew somewhere they both cared for each other. France too had a slight brotherly instinct over the younger country.

The Doctor sighed, time was running out. It was a matter of minutes now. He kindly asked France to leave, but he refused.

"Non, at least let me look after 'is brothers. They will be 'urt."

The Doctor reluctantly agreed to let France stay, before creating the final hologram.

* * *

There, The Doctor found the brothers standing on a nearby hill in silence, looking at their little brother, who was still gazing up at the sky. Except, there was one major problem. An object seemed to be descending very quickly and was blocking most of the view.

While the brothers clasped each others' hands they moved closer to England, whilst The Doctor stayed behind. He had no right to go closer.

When the bomb eventually hit, the land immediately exploded. The sky turned red, and deafening noise filled their ears. The brothers clutched each other in pain, but did not open their mouths. And yet, agonized screams were heard. No-one needed to be told who's mouth the screams were coming from.

The hologram ended, and the brothers were in a pile on the floor of the TARDIS, each trying to hold each other together. Physically and emotionally. France comforted them to the best of his ability.

The Doctor simply watched in silence. He'd failed. His best friend was dead because of him. And whilst the world would eventually move on, he wouldn't. He'd never felt so alone.


	6. Epilogue: My Queen

**Please review! Hope you enjoyed! To be honest this fic was just a random idea I had. And also a warm up for a Fantasy Hetalia thing I'm working on...**

The Doctor didn't know why he went to visit Elizabeth. Well, they were technically married, but that was beside the point. What mattered was that he felt like visiting her, she was a good soul.

He seemed to arrive in the middle of a ball, with a rather large amount of security. He looked around, hoping to have a dance with Elizabeth. The only problem was he didn't know how to dance, but that can be fixed.

His eyes scanned the room for a lady standing by herself, but The Doctor found no-one. Odd, this was a royal ball with no royal.

He looked closer, before seeing something that made one of his hearts stop dead in its tracks. Elizabeth was dancing with a man. That shouldn't happen. The man wore a white shirt tucked neatly into his trousers. He wore a fancy red coat over it, and sported an eyepatch.

This made The Doctor mad. He had been dumped for a pirate of all things? But what would the Queen be doing with a pirate? He looked closer at the man. There went his other heart. The man was none other than England.

The couple expertly danced, enjoying each other's company. The Doctor felt like he had been stabbed. His "wife" loved his best friend whom he had killed?

" _I am married to my country."_

Those words had escaped Elizabeth's lips countless times, but only now did The Doctor realise how literal it was.

He felt something trickle down his cheek.


End file.
